Every thought I have imprisoned in expression, I must free by my deeds
God is day and night, winter and summer, war and peace, plenty and want. But he is changed, just as when incense is mingled with incense, but named according to the pleasure of each.
They do not understand: how that which separates unites with itself. It is a harmony of oppositions, as in the case of the bow and of the lyre.
(Uit de fragmenten van Herakleitos)
Marvel, a garden among the flames!
My heart can take on any form: a meadow for gazelles, a cloister for monks. For the idols, sacred ground, Ka'ba for the circling pilgrim,
the tables of the Torah, the scrolls of the Qur'án. I profess the religion of love; wherever its caravan turns along the way, that is the belief, the faith I keep.
"I had heard the discords resolving into harmonies; for one moment I had stood on another sphere and contemplated from afar, but also from close by, that procession which is both human and divine, wherein I, too, had my place, this our world where suffering existed still, but error was no more. From such a perspective our human destiny, that vague design in which the least practiced eye can trace so many flaws, gleamed bright like the patterns of the heavens."
(from: Marguerite Yourcenar - Memoirs of Hadrian)
"I realized that I had joined a pilgrimage to the East, seemingly a definite and single pilgrimage—but in reality, in its broadest sense, this expedition to the East was not only mine and now; this procession of believers and disciples had always and incessantly been moving towards the East, towards the Home of Light. Throughout the centuries it had been on the way, towards light and wonder, and each member, each group, indeed our whole host and its great pilgrimage, was only a wave in the eternal stream of human beings, of the eternal strivings of the human spirit towards the East, towards Home."
“Het verhevene van het doen ligt niet in ledige bezigheid en in plichtsvervulling, maar in de liefde. De bewonderingswaardige
dingen der natuur te leren kennen is de weg om deze bouwmeester, deze zo grote uitvinder te leren liefhebben. De ware liefde ontspringt aan een veelomvattende kennis van het geliefde object. De minnaar wordt aangetrokken door het beminde, maar als het beminde iets laags bij de gronds is, wordt ook de minnaar vulgair.”
Leonardo da Vinci in: Karl Jaspers, Leonardo en Nietzsche, 1966
Tag Archives: surrealisme
Visual poetry… Odd engineers Sleeping bugs And odd couples Komt dat zien, volgend jaar!